Swords and Sorcery
by DreamingIce
Summary: (And the moments between) Six short ficlets within the Tortallan universe, spanning from SotL to PotS. Dom. Kel. Roger. Neal. Alanna. Baird. Written as part of a 2012 shuffle challenge.


**Swords and Sorcery**

Okay, I originally wrote these as part of a multifandom challenge this year - 10 songs from my iPod on shuffle=5 ficlets from various fandoms each month. Every month (Ending with 60 ficlets across some 30 odd fandoms!).

And I may have re-read all of my Tortall books. Again. Rabid plot bunnies bit me. A fair bit. New method of dealing: mini-fic. Because I can't find the time to make them into decent length stories... (half crazy life, half out of practice and lazy).

Apologies for the rusty characterisations in a few places. Alanna in particular fought me more than she used to...

Anyway, I hope you enjoy at least some of the ficlets below!

* * *

**April**

**Title:** Bets and Pride  
**Fandom:** Protector of the Small Quartet  
**Characters:** Domitan of Masbolle  
**Timeframe:** First Test  
**Theme:** Dumbledore's Army – Order of the Phoenix  
~*~

Dom was feeling a little in over his head. Joining the King's Own had seemed like a good idea at the time.

However, two months in, he realised that it was going to be harder than he ever thought. This last week has been one of the first times that he's _not_ been coated in mud and covered in bruises. And now they were about to head out again. He really hoped that Qasim was right and it was a false alarm.

So stopping to watch the pages start their tilting was fine with him. If he happened to see his cousin knocked off his horse at the same time, well... it might make him feel better to see smart-mouthed Neal take a walloping. Neal didn't get more than a light whack from the dummy though, and Dom was almost disappointed.

"Look at the size of that gelding," one of his squad members exclaimed quietly.

"The page doesn't look big enough to be on a monster like that," Dom head someone else say.

"Is that _the Girl_?" came from behind.

Sure enough, the page on the monster of a horse was Keladry of Mindelan. Dom had already heard much about this girl from Neal's letters.

It wasn't hard to see that her tilting run was going to be disastrous. "Bet she doesn't stay on," the men quickly started a pool.

"Don't think she'll even hit the target at all."

"I think she'll stay on," Dom interjected. The men stared at him, the shrugged. No doubt figuring that if the newbie wanted to lose his money, it wasn't their problem.

From what he knew, Keladry seemed like a stubborn girl, and for all Neal's dramatics, the meathead was generally a good judge of character.

The horse reared, and Dom winced along with everyone else. Then grinned as she recovered, still in her saddle, quickly trying to hide behind the rest of pages as Lord Raoul entered into conversation with Lord Wyldon.

He decided he rather liked this girl page.

* * *

**August**

**Title:** Changes of Perspective  
**Fandom:** Tortall (Protector of the Small)  
**Characters:** Keladry of Mindelan, Cleon of Kenann  
**Timeframe:** Lady Knight  
**Theme:** Everything I'm Not – The Veronicas

_Oh no, don't go changing  
__That's what you told me from the start  
__Thought you where something different  
__That's when it all just fell apart  
~*~_

It's strange, Kel feels, the relief that comes with Cleon and her breaking off their relationship.

There's sadness, yes, and pain, but truthfully, Kel knows that their relationship had run its course. She can't speak for Cleon, of course, but the fire is gone for her, and even before that happened, she had begun to realise things were not going to really work.

For all that Cleon had fallen for the female squire, there were times that she wondered if he momentarily forgot she was not a normal noble born lady. When he had first muttered something about marriage, automatically assuming that was where she wanted the relationship to go.

(Kel has to admit, there had been some appeal to the idea, but nowhere in the near future, she had too much to accomplish first.)

She hopes that they can keep their friendship at least.

Keladry sends a quick prayer to the Goddess that Cleon's new bride would realise how lucky she was, and that they would be happy together.

Cleon deserved to be happy, and have the family he wished for, which she could never give him.

* * *

**November**

**Title:** Birthday Melancholy  
**Fandom:** Tortall (Protector of the Small)  
**Characters:** Nealan of Queenscove  
**Timeframe:** Shortly before the epilogue of LK  
**Theme:** Godric's Hollow Graveyard – HP DH pt1 soundtrack – Neal on his brothers (TP)  
~*~

New Hope is slowly coming together, and Neal slips away into the shadows of the stable early in the day. He needed some time to himself before he can face everyone else.

Today is his twenty-third birthday.

He has now out lived both his brothers.

It doesn't seem right. In his mind, he still sees Graeme and Jasper as his older, smart-mouthed, teasing brothers. The fact he is now older than either of them got to makes him feel almost ill. Suddenly he feels fourteen again, and emotionally crushed at the news his brothers are gone.

(The full impact of the fact he was the oldest surviving son, with all the implications and responsibilities, would not sink in for weeks afterwards.)

Birthdays for the past eight years have been hard, and he would catch himself waiting for the two of them to make an appearance, or send him a message. But this year... this year Neal has seen more war than he ever wanted, and he wonders if his brothers felt like this during their final months.

He's had Graeme and Jasper close in his thoughts a lot this year. Every fight, that bout of insanity into Scanra, and every time he caught the warring pride and panic in his father's eyes (he remembered seeing the same look when Graeme and Jasper got their shields too)

Neal fingers the letter in his hands, Yuki's precise lettering making him smile slightly. He wonders what his brothers would have thought of his peppery bride-to-be. He likes to think they would have liked her, even if just for her ability to keep him in line, he thought ruefully.

Even some eight years after their death, Neal still seeks their approval, and he shakes his head at his own folly.

His brothers had always backed him when he was younger. They would have called him crazy, no doubt, but they would have supported his decision, he's sure.

Kel's head pokes around the corner, "What are you hiding in here for, Neal?" she asks, curiosity on her face.

He shrugs eloquently, "Thinking,"

"Dangerous occupation," she replies with a small grin.

Neal throws her a baleful look. "That's not nice to say on my birthday," he mock sniffed.

"What better time to throw your sarcastic comments back at you?" Kel said cheerfully. "Come on, breakfast is ready."

Brushing himself down, Neal follows his friend. He probably didn't honour his brother's memories best by sulking anyway.

* * *

**Title:** All Fall Down  
**Fandom:** Tortall (Song of the Lioness)  
**Characters:** Duke Roger of Conté  
**Timeframe:** Lioness Rampant  
**Theme:** Seven Devils – Florence + the Machine

_Holy water cannot help you now  
__Thousand armies couldn't keep me out  
__I don't want your money  
__I don't want your crown  
__See I've come to burn your kingdom down  
~*~_

It's the day before his cousin's coronation, and Roger is... restless.

The rest of the conspirators—calling them such makes his mouth twist mockingly—have no true notion of his outcomes. Alex is the exception, but even his former squire is not exempt from the pathetic mistakes made recently.

Sure, everything has been quiet since Malven slipped from the Provost's grasp, but Roger knows he is being watched like a hawk. He snorts in derision. His plans are going perfectly fine. And he marvels that Thom's illness has not been connected with him.

Even if they have begun to suspect (and he would be disappointed, in a way, if the Lioness has _not_ suspected him), it will make no difference for tomorrow. Not even with Si-Cham's presence.

Roger lit the fire in his room, and for a moment it glowed the dark red of Thom's stolen gift before the colour faded. With no other light in the room, it lit his face in a ghoulish manner, making the mocking grin look more like the smile of the insane.

No, he would not fail tomorrow. No matter how many people Jonathan surrounded himself with, it would come to an end.

He would bring this world crumbling down.

* * *

**December**

**Title:** Family History  
**Fandom:** Tortall  
**Characters:** Alanna, George  
**Timeframe:** Between SotL and Immortals  
**Theme:** Promises/(End Titles) – Amazing Spider Man Soundtrack  
~*~

Alanna had recognised the signs last week.

Heartburn. Strange dreams. Tender breasts. The early stirrings of nausea.

She was pregnant again.

Maude figured it out within days too, and had clucked over her ever since, her eagle eye missing nothing. George was on a fact-finding mission, due back this week some time.

She wished he was here. George had a remarkable ability to smooth her worries and fears.

It wasn't that she didn't want more children. She loved her little Thom (she imagines her twin rolling his eyes at her choice of name), and he was just over a year old now. But Maude's addition to her discovery, which she then confirmed herself, had her scared.

Twins.

She and George were having twins.

Which was why she found herself out here on this windswept balcony, thinking.

All her life, she had lived with the knowledge that her own mother had died giving birth to her and her twin. Would she have a similarly hard time? The thought, foolish as it may be, gnawed at her. She had given birth to Thom with no complications, surely she would be fine... _But that was one babe, not two_, a voice in her head said.

Alanna failed to notice her husband's figure in the doorway, so wrapped up in her thoughts.

"Any particular reason you're out here, ignoring the cold, may I add?" His tone was light, but there was a worried look in his hazel eyes.

Alanna automatically moved toward George's arms.

"I'm... being silly," she mumbled against his chest.

George's chest rumbled as he chuckled softly. "You are rarely silly, Lass,"

Alanna sighed gently. "I'm pregnant, George," she almost whispered. "With twins."

She swore his grin warmed the balcony with it's radiance, and she can't help by smile in response, before he pulled back, and looked at his wife searchingly.

"You're worried about twins?" he asks softly. She nods. "Because of your mother?" Another nod.

George wraps his arms around her, "Alanna, you'll have Maude, Ma, anyone you want there. You did spectacularly when Thommy was born. I have no doubt you'll be splendid."

Alanna took the reassurance, letting George smooth the cracks and fears once again.

They both knew the topic was far from exhausted, but further discussion was for a later time.

"Let's hope they don't attract half the trouble of the last set of twins in this family," George mused aloud, a smile in his voice, which graduated to chuckles when Alanna half-heartedly whacked his shoulder.

* * *

**Title:** Worry  
**Fandom:** Tortall (Protector of the Small)  
**Characters:** Duke Baird of Queenscove  
**Timeframe:** LK  
**Theme:** Orphan – The Dark Knight Rises soundtrack (Hans Zimmer)  
~*~

Baird has only just arrived at Frasrland when the news comes through.

In the months since he'd left Haven, he'd seen enough bad reports come in to know that there was no good news when he saw the General's face.

"What's happened?" Alanna, blunt as usual, has also watched the man's face pale with unease.

The General's face is grim as he responds. "The refugee camp, it's been taken. And Eighth Company was chewed up by four killing devices attempting to follow the Scanrans."

Baird hears a dull roaring in his ears, suddenly glad he is already sitting. He didn't hear anything past Haven had fallen.

_Mithros, no. Not again. Great Merciful Mother, he could not lose another child!_

The mere thought is a punch in the gut, and he feels the blood draining from his face. He is jolted back to reality by the awful scent of wakeflower coming from the small vial Alanna held.

"The report also said that all three of Haven's knights are alive," she told him quickly. "Apparently the Scanrans waited until Kel and Neal went to Mastiff for their regular reports."

_Thank Mithros, Goddess, and the Black God for sparing his son._

A weight lifted off his chest, and he was able to breathe.

"Sorry, I..." he began to apologise, only to Alanna brushed it off as unnecessary. "Do we know anything more?" he queried.

Alanna reluctantly handed over the missive, aware that the content would do nothing to soothe Baird's worries for his son.

"What are they thinking?" Baird whispered, almost to himself, as he finished.

"Are you really surprised that Kel went after them, or that the others followed?" Alanna asked softly from the other side of the room. "Not to mention the fact that even from a purely strategic stand point, two hundred children would fuel an awful number of Killing Devices in the hands of Blayce."

The older healer sighed, rubbing his forehead in defeat. "I know," he replied. "That won't stop me from worrying, though."

"I know."

Baird suddenly moves towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Alanna asks, slightly confused.

"Sounds like they need an experienced healer back there. And I intend to be there when that group comes back."

It was a good thing Baird hadn't unpacked his gear yet.

* * *

...Okay. Some are better than others. (Some sounded a lot better in my head, too)

Thoughts and feedback always greatfully recieved (including concrit)!


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